


Paint You on a Vase

by Udunie



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Nymph Stiles Stilinski, antiquity, very slightly dubcon at places
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 17:39:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7583617
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Udunie/pseuds/Udunie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He snuck forward slowly, keeping to the ground and placing his paws carefully. The wind was tricky, blowing from the side; it made it hard to smell the deer, but also kept her unaware of his presence.</p><p>It didn’t take him long to reach the water, nosing the low plants out of the way with his snout to get a better a look. What he saw made him pause.</p><p>The doe had an unusual friend.</p><p>“It’s alright,” the… the nymph said, stroking the deer’s soft ears. “Nothing can hurt you, I promise.”</p><p>Peter wanted to disagree, but he had a hard time taking his eyes off of the boy. He wasn’t aware that nymphs came in males too, but he was absolutely certain that he was seeing one right now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Paint You on a Vase

**Author's Note:**

> This is my contribution to Steter Week 2016 - day 1!
> 
> This was the prompt:   
> Anonymous said:  
> Oh man so for the mythical/antiquity day can you please write a thing where Stiles is a fairy/forest nymph and Peter's the member of the royal family who stumbles upon him in the woods one day (maybe while hunting?)
> 
> As always, many thanks to the lovely Emma who kept me going!

Peter shouldn’t have gone hunting alone - as his sister liked to constantly remind him - it wasn’t proper for a prince, according to her.

But Peter cared little about that. She might have been queen, but she was less than an hour older than him, which was really no basis for authority as far as he was concerned.

And he liked deer.

The one he had been chasing was a beautiful animal, slim and limber, skipping through the underbrush like she could fly, but even if she did, she couldn’t get away from Peter. He changed quickly, letting his wolf-skin cover him and fell to all-fours as easy as breathing, taking pursuit.

He chased the doe far. Far over the borders of their lands, but with the wind in his fur and the noises of the forest around him, he barely even noticed, mouth already watering with the sweet smell of prey in his nose.

The deer gained some advantage, thanks to Peter being unfamiliar with the landscape, but he noticed right away when she stopped. There was running water somewhere ahead, and he could hear the heartbeat of the animal - quick and panicked, but already calming - right on the shore.

There was someone else with her, too. He couldn’t tell from this distance what kind of creature it was, but he was eager to find out. After such a chase, he wasn’t going to give up his dinner.

He snuck forward slowly, keeping to the ground and placing his paws carefully. The wind was tricky, blowing from the side; it made it hard to smell the deer, but also kept her unaware of his presence.

It didn’t take him long to reach the water, nosing the low plants out of the way with his snout to get a better a look. What he saw made him pause.

The doe had an unusual friend.

“It’s alright,” the… the nymph said, stroking the deer’s soft ears. “Nothing can hurt you, I promise.”

Peter wanted to disagree, but he had a hard time taking his eyes off of the boy. He wasn’t aware that nymphs came in males too, but he was absolutely certain that he was seeing one right now.

He was lithe bodied and pale skinned, eyes a warm honey brown with lush, pink lips begging to be kissed. He was dressed in a white toga, head crowned by a wreath of spring blossoms. Oh, he’d heard about the charms of nymphs, but this was more than he expected. He felt a pull so strong that it was hard to keep himself from whining like a pup.

The deer still sensed his presence, turning her head and looking right at his hiding place. Her tail twitched as she waded into the water, hiding behind the nymph. He followed the animal’s gaze, spotting Peter as sure as an arrow.

“Now, now, now… Are you the one who terrified this poor girl?” he asked, eyes narrowed, and Peter was powerless to resist him, slowly climbing out from between the bushes. Nymphs were supposed to be shy creatures, but this one acted nothing like that.

Peter knew he was huge in this body, larger than any wolf had a right to be, but the boy seemed unfazed, keeping his critical gaze on him. The deer was trembling though, knowing when she was facing an apex predator. The nymph turned around - showing his  _ back  _ to Peter, like he wasn’t more than an unruly pup - and rubbed her neck.

“You may go now, I can take care of this,” the nymph said, shooing the doe away until there was no one else by the stream just him and Peter.

“Now  _ you _ ,” he said, facing the wolf again. “You are not supposed to be here, and certainly not supposed to chase around my wards,” he chided.

A part of Peter wanted him to attack the nymph, to tear that pale, elegant neck apart, because there was something wrong about this feeling of bewilderment that was unnatural. But, the largest part of him wanted nothing more than to follow the creature and obey his every word.

The nymph waded out of the stream to the other side, looking at Peter over his shoulder, almost coyly.

“What is it? Are you scared, little wolf?” he said, and Peter couldn’t be expected to not react to that. He lunged, flying over the water with one, huge leap, landing at the boy’s feet. He growled as the nymph reached out, burying his fingers in his thick fur.

The sound was stuck in his throat at the contact, his body shivering. It shouldn’t have been possible, but the change was forced upon him, hair receding, bones popping until he was kneeling by the boy’s feet, weak and naked and so very human.

“My name is Stiles,” he said, smiling. His hand was still on Peter, stroking through his hair. He wasn’t sure he could move a muscle to save his life.

“Wh-what are you doing to me?” he asked, swallowing hard. He’d never felt this powerless in his entire life. The nymph laughed.

“You have very, very bad luck, my little wolf. Any other god of the forest you could have taken on fair and square, but you just had to come running to a Meliae…”

Peter closed his eyes. The Ash Tree Nymphs. Probably the only creatures in the world who could take on all of the mortal supernaturals without breaking a sweat. Their powers were the legends of terror.

“What were you thinking, wandering so far from home without a care in the world? Did your kind forget us, hm?”

His voice was light, almost kind, but there was something underneath it that made the marrow in Peter’s bone quiver.

“Do you know how we were born, little wolf? My kin were born from the blood of Uranus when his son castrated him. Is that what you want for yourself?”

Peter whined. It was shameful and cowardly, but his instincts were screaming at him to just submit.

“My mother was one of the nymphs who raised Zeus and you think you can just prance into my forest and do what you want?”

Peter shook his head. If he had known… If he known he would have stayed far, far away.

“You’re lucky you are good looking,” Stiles said, finally pulling his hand back. It made breathing easier, and Peter realized how dazed that single touch made him. His mind whirred into motion with the numbing fear finally gone, but he saw no way to escape. As much as he loathed even the thought of it, he was at the mercy of the creature in front of him.

Stiles walked away, sitting down on a fallen tree and looking at Peter expectantly. 

“Well, little wolf? This is where you are supposed to get into my good graces, in case you need cues.”

Peter licked his lips. On one hand, he didn’t really have a choice, but on the other… The nymph was hot. Maybe he wanted to humiliate Peter, to make him learn his place, but two could play that game.

He huffed out a breath and got on all fours, crawling slowly over to the creature, making sure to keep eye-contact. Now, that seemed to take Stiles of guard. He had a good poker face, but he couldn’t mask his smell, and now that he was more familiar with it, Peter could smell his arousal.

“May I?” he asked, when he was close enough, nodding towards the snow white toga covering the god’s lap. It was finally Stiles’ turn to swallow. 

“Go ahead,” he said, trying to look uneffected.

Peter grinned. Sex was his turf, because however powerful and mighty this nymph was, he could still smell the scent of youth on him. Maybe not untouched, but still fresh and exciting.

He carefully pulled the fabric away, humming under his breath when realizing the boy wasn’t wearing anything underneath it. 

Stiles was already hard, his beautiful cock twitching eagerly at the merest touch of Peter’s fingers.

It made Peter smile.

Maybe he was getting too cheeky, because the next second those long fingers were cupping his cheek, making his mind go blank and he was feeling helpless and weak again. But this time he was smarter, not trying to fight it, but embracing it. He closed his eyes and pushed closer - careful not to look like he was trying to escape - and nuzzled his cheek against that pretty, pretty cock.

Stiles moaned, fingers twitching against Peter’s skin.

“Y-yeah,” he said, voice breathless.

He shivered when the werewolf started lapping at him, careful little licks that made his head float from the tase to the boy in front of him.

Finally, Stiles pulled his hand back, letting Peter think clear again as he clutched at the trunk he was sitting on. Oh, he would need to find good purchase, because Peter was going to take him on a  _ ride _ .

He didn’t waste more time, grasping Stiles’ cock with one hand and sucking the head into his mouth, circling the sensitive rim with his tongue until the god was cursing under his breath. That was his cue. Peter bobbed his head lower, looking up through his lashes at Stiles. The nymph was looking back at him with dazed eyes, pale cheeks blushing beautifully. His mouth was slightly parted. Against all reason, Peter hoped he would have a chance to kiss those soft looking lips and bite them red.

He doubled his efforts, sucking hard every time he pulled up, but not letting that delicious cock pop out of his mouth. He played around, trying different pressures, different speed until he found the one that took the nymph’s breath away. Apparently gods liked it a little rough - or maybe it was just Stiles.

Peter loved the way he sucked his belly in whenever he let his teeth graze the head of Stiles’ cock, the way his thighs hitched at a particularly hard pull. The god might have wanted him to feel powerless, but he felt like the mightiest creature alive.

It didn’t take long for Stiles’ eyes to fall closed, dark lashes fluttering, and Peter sped up, taking the boy’s balls into his free hand to caress. That was all it took and Stiles was coming, curling over Peter’s head and crying out in pleasure.

He didn’t taste like any man Peter ever serviced. His seed was almost flowery with a biting undertone that left his throat burning in the best way. He waited patiently until the god regained his composure, pushing Peter away when the mere touch of his lips became too much.

He sat back on his heels, eyes stuck on the nymph’s face as he took hold of his own erection, jerking himself fast and hard while he imagined all the things he could do to such a sensual creature.

“W-who… who said you’re allowed to do that?” Stiles asked, but the question was undermined by how breathless he sounded, still pliant from his orgasm.

Peter grinned, showing off his teeth before he had to throw his head back, coming all over his hands. Fuck. It had been a long time since he’s been this turned on.

“You didn’t say I couldn’t,” he replied finally, when the last aftershocks of his pleasure subsided.

Stiles snorted. It wasn’t a very godly sound, but it suited him.

“Point.”

He stood, caressing Peter’s cheek as he passed him. His touch sent a shiver down his spine.

“Maybe next time I won’t allow it,” he said, but by the time Peter turned around, he was already gone.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are love!


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